


Dalish Drabbles

by TheDalishWarden



Category: Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-05-05
Packaged: 2018-03-29 02:03:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3878200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDalishWarden/pseuds/TheDalishWarden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of drabbles based on the life and experiences of my female Mahariel. Some of them are reflections on her former life with the Sabrae Clan, but many of them feature Alistair/Mahariel as the centric pairing, eventually will be ranging from fluff to smut.</p><p>Rating and Warnings may eventually change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beginnings

\-----------------------

She was a very tiny baby.

She was too tiny, coming into this world nearly a month before she should have, and what should have been a time of celebration for the Sabrae Clan was now a time of grief and loss.

Their beloved Keeper was dead, butchered at the hands of the shemlen and the flat-ears. He'd been returned to the Creators before ever setting eyes on his child, and the woman that should have been mother to the tiny baby was gone as well. She'd wandered off in the middle of the night only a few days after they buried their Keeper, bearing pain and grief instead of what should have been joy in her heart, and her disappearance had only been discovered because she'd left her little baby behind in her tent. The baby's cries for food and warmth had been heard by Ashalle, one of the clan's younger hunters, and when Ashalle entered the tent and realized why the baby was alone she couldn't help but weep alongside her.

The remaining hunters and Marethari, who'd risen up to become the new Keeper after the loss of their former, had scoured the outskirts of the forest for days, with one of their more agile archers even slipping into the nearby city, but there was no sign of the baby's mother, and when they returned empty-handed another cloud of grief settled over the clan.

Ashalle stood near the center of the encampment, cradling the whimpering baby to her chest, and her heart broke for the little one in her arms when Marethari met her gaze with a solemn shake of her head. Ashalle looks away from their Keeper with a soft sigh, pulling back the blanket to peer down at the red-faced baby. Many had their doubts that the infant would survive, but Ashalle had little doubt in the baby's strength. She'd already proved to posses a pair of powerful lungs, and she'd taken to the Halla milk after only a few days of struggling to keep something down.

Yes, she was a gift that had come too soon, and her parents were gone, but something told Ashalle that this little one would survive. The baby would live, grow, and someday do extraordinary things for their clan. What that meant exactly was still a mystery to the young huntress, but she would either keep this baby alive or let the Dread Wolf himself take her.

“Rest easy, da'len,” Ashalle whispers softly when the baby started to whimper again, though Ashalle did smile when she started swatting her little fists up against the cloth bound around her, her little face scrunching with frustration. Ashalle carefully tucks the baby back into the crook of her arm before pulling the folds of the blanket away to give her a little more room to move, but when pauses when the baby suddenly reached out, grabbing onto her finger just as Ashalle started to draw her hand back.

It gave her pause. Ashalle stared down at the tiny baby gazing up at her, and it was then that Ashalle knew she was right about this baby's survival. She was still red-faced and much lighter than she should've been by now, but the grip on her finger was strong for an infant her size, and her eyes were shining with life. She had her father's eyes, Ashalle noticed with a smile, and in the baby's face she could see more hints of his likeness that his daughter would no doubt grow into.

“Tiny,” another small voice suddenly pipes up, and Ashalle looked over to see a toddler with a mop of blond hair climbing onto the wooden bench beside her. He settles himself onto his knees, and he grips Ashalle's sleeve as he leans over to get a closer look at the baby in her arms, and Ashalle sees his brow furrowing at the sight of her. It is sad, Ashalle thinks, to see such a look of worry on the face of such a young boy. “Is she okay? Why is she so tiny?”

“She came into this world early, Tamlen,” Ashalle tells him, turning in her seat so that Tamlen could get a closer look at the infant in question. “She's little now, but just you watch. She'll grow each day, soon she'll be as big and strong enough to keep up with you and Fenarel.” Tamlen noticeably brightens at that, and Ashalle smiles as Tamlen beams down at the little baby.

“I'll help keep her safe until then!” Tamlen chirps, wriggling his fingers in front of the baby's face and beaming again when she reaches up to try and grasp at them. “I'll protect you forever, um..” Tamlen trails off with another frown, scrunching his nose briefly before he looks up at Ashalle again. “What's her name anyway?”

“It hasn't been a full month yet since she came to us, _da'len_ ,” Ashalle replies, gently reminding him that babies in their clan weren't given a first name until they'd live through their first moon cycle. “But for now, Tamlen, we'll all call her Mahariel.”

 -----------------------


	2. Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mahariel and Alistair get caught in a storm.

\-----------------------

“It's 'definitely not going to rain', huh?” Mahariel mutters, giving the man beside her a deadpan stare as a roll of thunder rumbles through the air, nearly drowning out the pounding rain that was steadily coming down. Alistair just shrugs in reply, though he at least has the decency to look sheepish as the two of them scoot further back into the narrow cave they'd found, trying to ignore the creeping chill as the storm outside roared on.

It was barely past midday but the clouds above were nearly black, and the sudden downpour that had sent them scurrying for shelter hadn't shown any sign of letting up for nearly a half hour. This storm definitely wasn't clearing out anytime soon, and there was still nearly a mile between them and the inn that they'd left all their supplies at, including their bedrolls and warmest traveling cloaks.

“Well in my defense, the sky was nearly clear when we set out this morning,” Alistair replies, reaching behind his back with a wince to remove a small stone that had been digging into his hip, and he tosses it aside as Mahariel scoffs in reply.

“That's hardly a defense, since I told you that we should've gone back to the keep as soon as those clouds starting rolling in,” she reminds him, rolling her eyes when he folds his arms over his chest with a huff, his indignant expression dropping into a pout. “You're lucky I thought to leave Nathaniel in command before we left, otherwise Ohgren and Anders might've burned the Keep down by now.”

“Oh come on.. You know that even if Nathaniel wasn't there to watch them then Sigrun, Velanna, and Seneschal Varel would still be there keep them in line,” Alistair chuckles, gently nudging Mahariel's shoulder with his own. “You just worry too much when in comes to leaving them alone.”

“You say that a lot for a guy that doesn't bothering worrying enough,” Mahariel retorts before settling against the back wall of the cave, sighing softly as she leans over to rest her head against his shoulder. Alistair smiles at the gesture, leaning over to rest his head on top of hers and slipping his hand between them to entwine their fingers. “You're a really warm little elf,” he mumbles against her hair, smiling when he hears a short laugh echo through the cave.

“And you're a big ridiculous human,” Mahariel replies, nuzzling her head up against his. Alistair chuckles again, kissing the top of her head and then her temple before leaning down to kiss her cheek and nuzzle the side of his face against hers.

“You know, Mahariel, we're probably going to be stuck here a while,” Alistair whispers after angling his head towards her ear, letting his lips graze along the shell and grinning at the way his touch makes her suddenly stiffen. “I was just thinking that me might as well find a way to pass the time and keep warm..”

“Oh, what magnificent ideas could possibly be racing through that mind of yours?” Mahariel scoffs but she still sits up, being mindful of the cave's low roof as she turns and settles herself into Alistair's lap, draping her arms around his shoulders before gently pressing her forehead to his. “You're lucky that I love you, Alistair..”

“You don't need to remind me of that.. I've mentioned before how lucky a man I am,” Alistair replies as he wraps his arms around Mahariel's waist, flashing her a warm smile before claiming her lips with his own and trailing his hands up to the clasps of her armor as the thunderstorm outside of their cave continued to rage on, and soon the rain and the chill was all but forgotten.

\-----------------------

 

 


	3. Constellations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alistair and Mahariel stargaze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: This chapter does allude to some Inquisition spoilers.

\-----------------------

“All right, now what's that one?” Alistair asks hers as he points up towards the night sky, and Mahariel's temple brushes against when she rolls over, following his gaze to see which cluster he was pointing at.

“Oh, that one's Andruil's Bow,” Mahariel replies, raising her hand up beside his and tracing a pattern into the air. “See how that line of stars curves there? That's her bow, and that row of stars down the middle of the bow is one of her special arrows. According to our legends, once one of her arrows is shot it never misses it's target, no matter how long it has to chase it.”

“Okay, Andruil sounds terrifying,” Alistair huffs with a faint smile, his eyes scanning across the expanse of the black sky before he gestures towards another constellation to his right. “What about that one, with the really bright one in the center.. Is that anything?”

“That's the Eye of Mythal,” Mahariel tells him once she's figured out where he's pointing. Alistair turns his head to look at her, a little surprised by the sudden warmth in her tone. “Mythal is the protector of the people, and Keeper Marethari once told me that if you prayed to that star as a child, and you stayed faithful to the ways of the people, Mythal would hear you, and someday save you from great evil.”

“Well I'm glad you prayed then.. We've got no shortages of great evil right now, so we could definitely use a protective goddess on our side.” Alistair remarks as he folds his arms behind his head, still staring up at the starts glittering against the dark sky. Mahariel hums quietly in agreement before rolling over onto her side, laying her head against Alistair's shoulder and draping an arm across his stomach, smiling when he hums softly at the contact.

“I spent half of my life praying to Mythal after Marethari told me that. Figured that it couldn't hurt to get into the good graces of a goddess,” Mahariel replies quietly, tracing lazy patterns against Alistair's side and smiling again when she feels him starting to squirm beneath her tickling. “I didn't know if she ever really heard me, especially after Hahren Paivel told me the story of her demise, but we've beaten so many odds that maybe there is someone protecting us.”

“I hope so.. Closest thing we've gotten to a protector so far was Flemeth,” Alistair sighs, his nose wrinkling a little as he thinks of Morrigan's mother and then, by extent, Morrigan herself. “Not very fond of being in the debt of someone like her, but I guess she did save us from becoming Darkspawn chow back in that tower..”

“Well, maybe a servant of Mythal sent her to that tower save us,” Mahariel says, raising her head to flash Alistair a grin when she hears him snort at the suggestion. “Hey, it might not be that far-fetched. The Gods of our Pantheon had countless priests and acolytes that they sent out into the world to do their bidding. Our Gods might have fallen to the trickery of the Dread Wolf, but surely their most faithful have endured.”

“Yeah.. Even so, somehow I don't see Flemeth as being very devout, especially to a Dalish goddess,” Alistair replies, smiling down at the Elven woman beside him as he rolls over onto his side as well, keeping one arm tucked under his head while the other slipped around Mahariel's waist. “Next thing you'll be telling me is that Morrigan's destined to bring some evil old god back into the world, though _that_ I'd be much more inclined to believe.”

“Now you're just making fun me,” Mahariel accuses in a light tone, returning his warm smile with one of her own before she leans forward, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck with a soft sigh. Alistair just chuckles in reply before nuzzling his head against hers and setting his hand against her lower back, pulling her closer to him.

“Actually I'm all for the thought of a goddess watching out for you, my love,” Alistair replies quietly before trailing off into a loud yawn and resting his head on top of hers. “Since I already know what I've got an indestructible goddess watching out for me.”

“You're ridiculous sometimes,” Mahariel mutters against his neck, but he can see feel her smiling at his words, and Alistair presses a warm kiss to her temple before settling back down and holding his lover close. He didn't know much about the Dalish Pantheon aside from the stories Mahariel had told him on nights like this, but if Mythal was really out there and able to protect Mahariel and her people, he had no problem with closing his eyes and sending out a prayer of his own.

\-----------------------

 


	4. Silver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chance encounter between children.

\-----------------------

She'd been to the clearing by the edge of the forest countless times in the past few weeks.

Right now it was her favorite place, not too far from where their latest camp currently was but it still remained her little secret from Tamlen, Fenarel and Junar, and so she had somewhere to go when their antics became too ridiculous, even for her. She'd spent hours in that clearing, laying in the grass and observing the wildlife as it passed through, or watching the clouds roll by for hours until the sun started to set and she trekked back to camp.

But something feels off even as she races down a familiar path through the forest, eager to put some distance between herself and the camp before any of her friends can realize that she'd slipped away, and as soon as she breaks through the treeline and steps into the familiar clearing she instantly spots what must've been the source of her unexplained apprehension.

There was a _shemlen_ sitting in the middle of her clearing.

She freezes the instant she realizes that he's there, and though she thanks all the Gods from Elgar'nan to June that he doesn't seem to notice that her stumbling into the clearing, she doesn't move a muscle, terrified that even breathing too hard will catch his attention.

Mahariel almost couldn't believe it. A shemlen, sitting in her clearing like he owned it, as if he had any right to be there! She swallows as she straightens up, the instinctual fear she feels at the sight of him overpower only by the indignation suddenly pounding in the back of her mind. She knew shemlen were dangerous to nearly every people, but none more so than her own. The Dalish and the shemlen had been at odds with each other for ages, and with good reason, Hahren Paivel had told them. The shems were the ones that had stolen Dalish lands, defiled the temples of their Gods, and turned their brethren into blank-faced flat-ears who'd lost their pride and forgotten the Way of the Three Trees.

Well, she wasn't going to let _that_ happen to her! She should attack him, and run him far away from this forest. Her clan was only passing through this area, but like Master Ilen often told them, the shemlen of this town (what had Marethari called it again? Redrock? Cliffside? ) had no reason to be in the forests unless they were looking to cause trouble with the Dalish. If this shemlen was here, it could only mean one thing; he was an enemy, and as a future warrior of the clan, it was her job to show him that her clan would not be threatened, and that they were never again submit to the tyranny of the humans.

But, she was beginning to realize, it was much easier being bold and brave in her mind. She couldn't be reckless about this; she'd never seen a shem this close without the adults of her clan around to protect her. At the very least, she needed to find a weapon before she was noticed, or leave the clearing to alert the hunters that there was prey in the forest beyond the usual deer and boar. She suddenly recalled a ritual Junar once told her about, called 'Fen'Harel's Teeth'. She'd never witnessed her clan performing it, but she knew what the game entailed, and what better way to punish an intrusive human that to show him the wrath of the Dalish?

Right?

Her fear was no longer on the forefront of her mind, but still, Mahariel didn't move. As she'd thought of the different ways her clan could deal with this boy she steadily took in details about him and realized with a jolt that he was no adult shem. He was only a child, just like her.

He couldn't have been any older than her, and in fact he actually looked a year or two younger. She doubted that he'd even seen a dozen winters like she had, but that aside, the boy just looked so.. miserable. He sat on the trunk of the overturned tree she'd climbed on dozens on times, his clothes too large and nearly hanging off of his scrawny body. His straw-colored hair was tousled and uncombed, sticking out in every direction, and though he wasn't facing her she could see faint freckles peppered along his cheeks and down his neck.

He was a scrawny, pitiful little thing indeed. She knew shemlen were to be hated and fear by her people but.. were the ones like _him_ really such a threat?

Something in his palm suddenly shines as it catches the sunlight, and Mahariel's squints when he shines onto her face, her gaze dropping down to the object in his hand. He was holding.. an amulet? Still careful not to make a sound, Mahariel steps further into the clearing, her feet moving noiselessly in the grass, and sure enough, he was gripping a silver amulet in his hand. It was a lovely thing, with something very intricate but also unfamiliar carved into it, and the boy cradled it carefully in his palm, as if afraid that it would suddenly shatter in his grip.

He suddenly sniffs loudly, making Mahariel jump at the noise, and she watches him as he brushes his already dirty sleeve across his face with a quiet whimper. Mahariel frowns, feeling an unexpected rush of pity for him. She didn't even know _why_ he was crying or why she should care, but she'd always been the one to comfort little Merrill whenever she cried (which was rather often), and shemlen or not, she just didn't like leaving someone alone when they were upset.

In the back of her mind she knew this was very dangerous, and she'd be in a world of trouble if anyone from her clan happened upon her now, but Mahariel takes another quiet step closer to the strange shem boy, reaching out to touch his shoulder once there was only a few feet between them. She licks her lips, heart pounding, and slowly opens her mouth to greet him, to quickly let him know that yes, she was Dalish, but right now she was not his enemy.

“ _Anda_ -”

“ALISTAIR!”

The sudden voice makes her and the boy both jump, and she quickly pulls back her outstretched hand to clamp over her mouth, stifling a cry of surprise, and before she can even move away the boy (Alistair?) leaps off of the log, still not noticing her as he slips the amulet on over his head and tucks it into his shirt before wiping his teary face on his sleeve once more.

“C-Coming Teagan!” he calls out to the unseen speaker, and Mahariel quickly ducks down behind the tree trunk just in case he decided to turn around, but she can hear him running off in the other direction. She kneels there in the dirt until his retreating footsteps have long since faded and her pulse has slowed back down to normal, and she curses herself for what she'd almost done. Mythal protect her, that was far too close..

Mahariel waits a few more minutes before she finally stands her, her legs wobbly from the sudden fright and from kneeling in one place for so long. The shem boy and whoever he'd run to join were both clearly long gone, but Mahariel feels a small rush of disappointment along with the relief.

Oh well..

With a sigh, she turns away and heads back towards the forest, for once eager to leave the clearing behind. She quickly makes her way back towards camp, rejoining her friends by the fire, but when Fenarel asks where she'd run off to she decides to keep the near-encounter with the shem boy and his strange silver amulet to herself. Telling any of them would mean that Marethari would undoubtedly hear about it before the sun was out of the sky, and she wasn't going to risk uprooting her clan again over a shem boy that she'd never see again.

\-----------------------

 


End file.
